


Be the Matchmaker You Wish to See In the World

by raving_liberal



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Animal Husbandry, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Domestic Avengers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Time, M/M, Marvel Holiday Swap, Matchmaker Natasha Romanov, Matchmaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 20:46:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17107844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: Natasha is playing matchmaker again, or so Steve claims.





	Be the Matchmaker You Wish to See In the World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [debwalsh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/debwalsh/gifts).



> This gift for debwalsh is for the [Marvel Holiday Swap](MarvelHolidaySwap). 
> 
> Geeky_ramblings was kind enough to help me out with an 11th hour beta read (and david_of_oz, swooping in with the heroic assist)! Also, props to doctorkilljoy for the inspiration.

Bucky is elbow deep in a cow—literally; she’s calving a slightly malpositioned calf and there’s just nothing else to be done for it but get in there—when Steve comes by looking sheepish and rubbing the back of his neck like he does when he’s about to ask Bucky something he knows Bucky’s not going to be too keen on.

Sure enough, Steve kicks a little at some dirt as he leans against the railing of the makeshift pen Bucky’s set up for the cow, and says, “Hey Buck? You got a minute?”

Bucky rolls his eyes a little, not that anybody could blame him. Steve’s just so damn _Steve_ sometimes. “Well, I ain’t exactly going anywhere right now, am I?” That gets a laugh out of Steve.

“I guess not,” Steve says. “I need your help with something.”

“Sure, so long as it doesn’t involve the use of my arm,” Bucky says, nodding at the gloved arm that’s presently trying to reposition a stubborn hoof so that mama cow here can get about her business. He doesn’t like to wear the left arm when it’s not— when _he’s_ not— well, he just doesn’t like to _wear_ it these days, period. He can manage animal husbandry just fine with his one arm.

“It technically does, I guess, just not at the moment,” Steve says. “I’ve got a Natasha problem.”

“You and half the planet, chief,” Bucky says with a snort. He shifts his shoulder and the hoof pops forward into position. Satisfied that the cow can handle it from here, Bucky retrieves his arm. Steve grimaces. 

“Now that everything’s finally settling down, she’s started up with the matchmaking again,” Steve explains.

Bucky shucks the shoulder-length glove and frowns. “I thought you and Sharon had yourselves a little thing going.”

“Didn’t pan out,” Steve says, shaking his head. “Too much baggage.”

“I’ll say, what with her being Peggy’s niece and all,” Bucky says.

“Yeah, that’s part of it, I guess.” Steve’s hand goes to the back of his neck again. “I also caused problems with her job.”

“For the best possible reason, and which I greatly appreciate,” Bucky says.

“I know you do, Buck. Still, it means Natasha’s back at it. Three separate numbers, she’s slipped me this week, plus one time I walked into my usual coffee shop and found a lady waiting for me at my regular table. Turns out Nat sent here there to meet me!” Steve’s face reddens at the recollection, making Bucky chuckle.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Bucky says. “Getting surprised with a date with an attractive— she was attractive, right? Didn’t have a third eye or anything?”

“No, she was fine.”

“So no extra set of arms? Giant snaggle-tooth hanging over her bottom lip? Bat wings?”

Steve laughs. “No, Bucky. She was a perfectly nice-looking woman.”

“Ohhhh, I see,” Bucky says. “So it was just her personality that was bad.”

“What? No,” Steve says. “She seemed pleasant.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Bucky asks. He starts walking back to his house, Steve falling into step alongside him. 

“I’m just not interested in dating right now,” Steve says. 

“Seems like ‘right now’ has been going on for a stretch, though,” Bucky points out.

Steve sighs, waving one hand dismissively “I know, I know. It just doesn’t seem like a priority. I can’t get my head in the right place for it.”

“Doesn’t sound like she’s arranging a _marriage_ here, Steve,” Bucky says. “What sort of place does your head need to get in for you to have a cuppa coffee with a gal?”

“I’m just not up for the ‘get to know you’ stuff. The small talk,” Steve says. “She’s either already going to know more about me than I’d want to talk about on a first date, or I’m going to have to try to explain at least _something_ about my life, and it’s just going to end up awkward and uncomfortable for everyone involved.”

“Yeah, sounds like a real nightmare, having to get to know you,” Bucky says wryly. Steve makes a scrunched-up face of annoyance, which lasts until Bucky elbows him in a sensitive spot and makes him laugh. Steve spins away from Bucky’s elbow, which turns into a couple of seconds of Bucky trying to hit the ticklish spot again while Steve slaps at him. 

“But that’s what I need help with,” Steve says, once he successfully evades Bucky, mostly because Bucky realizes they probably look like a pair of horses’ asses to anyone observing them from a distance. Also because getting a rise out of Steve might be a little _too_ enjoyable.

“Ain’t a force on God’s green earth that’s gonna stop Natasha Romanov from trying to set you up on dates, Steve, and that’s just the sorry fact of it,” Bucky says.

Instead of looking disappointed, like Bucky assumed he would, Steve brightens. “Sorry. I should have said up front. I don’t need help with Natasha in a general sense. I need help with something specific.”

Bucky opens the door and lets Steve barrel inside before following him. “Alright. What specific something can I help out with.”

“You know about the Avengers Christmas party, right?”

“Pepper’s big to-do Upstate?” 

Steve nods. “Yeah. I need a date.”

“Stevie, pal, you just told me you’ve got a matchmaker who’s perfectly happy to—”

“No,” Steve interrupts. “I don’t need you to help me find a date. I need you to _be_ my date.” His cheeks pink up a little. “I think she’d believe it.”

“Is that so?” Bucky asks. “Hmm.” He strolls into his washroom and cleans up, letting Steve stand there red-faced while Bucky mulls it over. Finally, he comes back out and looks Steve up and down. “So what makes you think she’d buy it?”

“She’s made some comments.”

“Comments?” Bucky asks, frowning. “What kind of comments?”

“You know,” Steve says, the pink spreading from his cheeks to the rest of his face.

Buck just raises an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know, which is why I’m asking. What kind of comments?”

Steve’s face goes even redder. “Remarks.”

“Wow, Steve, that’s so exceptionally detailed of you,” Bucky says. “What sort of remarks are we talking here? _Dirty_ remarks?”

“No!”

“I’ve gotta say, buddy, your face looks like they were maybe dirty remarks.”

“They weren’t dirty remarks!” Steve insists, though his face has passed through strawberry and firmly headed into tomato territory. 

“Mmhmm,” Bucky says, putting his hand on his hip.

“She just makes little comments about— she says things about how we look together, okay?” Steve says.

“You and her?”

“No, you jerk, you and _me_!” 

Bucky lets out a little laugh. “So Natasha thinks we look good together, is what you’re telling me?” Steve nods without saying a word. “And you want me to be your date because you think she’ll believe we’re really a thing?” Steve nods again. “And you’re prepared to go into deep cover for the foreseeable future when she figures out it’s not true?” Steve starts to nod again, then stops and narrows his eyes.

“What?” Steve asks.

“Oh, Steve. Oh, buddy,” Bucky says, patting Steve on the arm. “When—and it’s definitely when, not if—Natasha figures out you’re lying to her, she’s gonna murder the both of us in cold blood and make it looks like an unfortunate, but unavoidable accident.”

Steve cringes. “Still,” he says.

“Yeah, okay,” Bucky says, because against his better judgment and despite his perfectly reasonable fear/respect for Natasha, the idea of spending an evening all dolled up in tuxes with Steve sounds pretty great.

“You will?” Steve asks.

“You bet,” Bucky says. “But just so you know, I don’t put out on the first date.”

Steve turns a shade of red that borscht would envy, but still manages to slap on a smirk. “That’s not what I heard.”

“Next time you talk to Natasha, tell her to stop telling dirty lies about me to my man,” Bucky says.

***

In the weeks leading up to the holiday party, Bucky wrestles with whether or not to wear his prosthetic arm. The thing is beautiful, without a doubt, and it balances out his silhouette in a suit, but Bucky still struggles with seeing it as anything other than an implement of war. Ultimately, he decides to leave the arm at home and wear one of his Wakanda-style suits with the left sleeve tucked up and pinned. The cut flatters him more than a traditional tuxedo, anyway.

Steve, on the other hand, is a regular Cary Grant in a tux, and obviously knows it. He makes a big show of offering Bucky his arm when the limousine pulls up in front of the Avengers compound, leading him into the building with a swagger in his step. Bucky knows Steve well enough to see the laugh he’s barely keeping under wraps – pulling one over on Natasha, what a riot! Steve’s arm is warm under Bucky’s hand, the compound smells like champagne and two generations worth of billionaires, and all in all Bucky can’t complain about helping Steve with the ruse. 

The guests get directed to a receiving line, where Tony and Pepper—but mostly Pepper—greet everyone personally. When Steve and Bucky reach them, Tony raises his eyebrow at Bucky’s hand on Steve’s arm.

“Well, well, well,” Tony says. Sometimes he sounds so much like Howard that it makes Bucky’s gut twist up. “Sergeant, Cap. Was I left off the group text about this? Because I have to say, guys, I’m really hurt—”

“James,” Pepper says, her voice warm and just loud enough to override Tony’s. “It’s wonderful to see you. Steve, thank you so much for coming. Please, help yourself to hors d'oeuvres.”

“And the open bar,” Tony adds.

“Yes, and the bar,” Pepper says. She puts a hand on top of Bucky’s on Steve’s arm and squeezes gently. 

Steve smiles at Pepper and then steers Bucky away from the receiving line and into the large open lobby, where other smartly-dressed guests eat, drink, and talk loudly over the noise of the jazz band playing on the far side. Bucky scans the room for familiar faces. He spots Sam and his current girlfriend, Gina, by the bar, both of them with colorful cocktails in their hands. Sam’s has a little umbrella. It’s hilarious.

“You want to go over and say hi to Sam and Gina?” Bucky asks, but Steve shakes his head. 

“We should make the circuit,” he says, looking around the room.

“Make sure Natasha sees us? Smart,” Bucky says, though it does sting a little, for some reason. Maybe because it makes him feel like a prop. 

Instead of nodding his agreement, however, Steve just looks startled. “Oh. No. I just thought we could check out the hors d'oeuvres. Last time Tony threw a party, they had these shrimp with shredded coconut cooked all over them.”

“You mean coconut shrimp?” Bucky supplies.

“Yeah, that’s probably what they’re called,” Steve says. “They’re great.”

“Sure. Let’s go find us some coconut shrimp,” Bucky says. His hand still on Steve’s arm, they go in search of food. They don’t find coconut shrimp, but Steve does manage to to load up a plate with bacon-wrapped scallops, tiny phyllo pastries filled with various meats and cheeses, and no fewer than half a dozen miniature cheesecakes drizzled with chocolate and caramel.

“Maybe the coconut shrimp are upstairs,” Steve says, nodding up to the balcony overlooking the lobby. Bucky sees Clint leaning on the railing, his youngest kid clinging to his leg. Bucky catches Clint’s eye, and the two men exchange a nod of greeting. 

“You’re gonna have to keep holding the plate if I’m gonna eat any of that,” Bucky says to Steve as they make their way to the stairs. He lifts his hand from Steve’s arm and waggles it in demonstration. 

“Oh, right, here,” Steve says, holding the plate towards Bucky, who snaps up one of the bacon-wrapped scallops. 

Bucky’s eyes widen as he chews. “Wow, that’s—”

“Amazing, right?” Steve says, eating a scallop of his own, and talking through a mouthful. “Pepper told me she has this caterer who—”

“Did you save one for me, boys?” Natasha’s voice comes from behind them, and Steve and Bucky both whip their faces in her direction. She snakes an arm between them to swipe a scallop from the plate and pop it between her red lips, just a few shades darker than the design on her floor-length gown. The toes of two silver shoes, clearly stilettos based on the change in their relatives heights, peek out from the hem. 

“I gotta say, you clean up nice,” Bucky says, adding an appreciative whistle for good measure.

“You like it?” Natasha does a half-spin and pose. “It’s Anna Sui. Well, it’s a knockoff, but I don’t really think you can tell.”

“I guarantee you neither of us can, since I have no idea who that is,” Steve says.

“Steve, you barbarian,” Bucky says, putting his hand to his chest in a perfect sham of shock and disappointment. “Obviously she’s talking about fabric types.”

“Ohhh,” Steve says. “I woulda guessed silk.”

“Anna Sui _is_ a kind of silk,” Bucky says.

“You think? I figured she meant that’s what the design is, so it’s probably a sort of flower,” Steve counters.

Natasha snorts, probably from the sheer force that holding back her laugh built up. “You two should take that show on the road,” she say, swooping back in to pick off the weakest of the cheesecake herd.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Steve says. “I’ve already lived the show business life. Wasn’t for me.”

“You hear, Nat? Wasn’t for him,” Bucky says.

Steve grins. “Knew I could count on you to back me up.”

“Hey, what are f— _antastic_ boyfriends for?” Bucky says, stumbling over the word, but correcting himself quick enough he doesn’t think Natasha noticed. 

“You’re definitely fantastic,” Steve says, and then he’s leaning in and pressing a kiss to Bucky’s lips, and wow, Bucky had not thought this all the way through. He leans into the kiss, though, making the most of it, until Natasha clears her throat.

“Yeah?” Steve asks her, sounding a little loopy.

“Did you want to wear cheesecake home tonight?” Natasha asks. She points between Steve and Bucky, at the plate Steve is still holding in one hand, on the verge of being crushed between them. Steve blushes.

“Oh. Yeah. Thanks, Nat,” he says.

“Yeah, thanks for sparing my suit,” Bucky adds. “It’s genuine Anna Sui, you know.”

“Oh my God, Natasha says, with a singularly dramatic roll of her eyes. “You boys have fun tonight. I’m going somewhere a little less romcom.”

“Hey, strong words from the Avengers’ top matchmaker!” Bucky calls after her as she strolls away. He looks back at Steve, who’s still got a dopey grin on his face. “You okay, pal?”

“Yeah, I’m great,” Steve says. “You?”

“I’m pretty sure she bought it,” Bucky says, then watches as Steve’s smile melts off his face.

“Oh,” Steve says. 

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m, uh. I’m gonna go see about that shrimp,” Steve says, abruptly turning and walking off in a decidedly shrimpless direction.

“Shit,” Bucky says to himself as he watches Steve’s retreating back. “I don’t think that was fake.”

“Me neither,” Natasha says from behind him, startling Bucky and making him spin around to find her, because he would have sworn he’d seen her go in a completely different direction.

“Oh, goddammit, this is just great,” Bucky says. “Now I’ve gotta burn my whole identity down, and I was just getting comfortable again.”

“Relax, Bucky. I swear, you’re as dramatic as he is,” Natasha says.

“Hey! You take that back, so help me. Nobody, I mean nobody, is more dramatic than Steve Rogers.”

Natasha laughs. “You have a point.”

“It was just a harmless little ruse, alright? He wanted to get you off his back with the matchmaking, is all,” Bucky says. “It was driving him up the wall.”

“What? He told you I was matchmaking?” Natasha laughs again, harder this time. “Oh, there was a ruse, alright, but I wasn’t the person getting fooled.”

Bucky furrows his brow. “Come again?”

“I haven’t tried to set him up with anyone in ages. Months, at least. Not since I told him you two looked cute together, and he fell all over himself begging me not to tell you he was in love with you.”

“Excuse me. What?”

“The only match I was trying to make was you two, and he seemed like he’d already gotten there on his own,” Natasha said.

“So he made up a story about— he just wanted to—” Bucky keeps starting and stopping, unsure where he’s even going with his words. “In love with me? He said that.”

“Not in those words.”

Bucky’s heart sinks. “So this is just conjecture?”

Natasha shakes her head. “His actual words involved phrases like ‘over the moon for him’ and ‘half gone for him since we were kids’ and other charming old man–speak.”

“He said he was over the moon for me?” Bucky asks.

“Twice,” Natasha says. “In the same conversation.”

“Huh. Well, how about that,” Bucky says.

“Now, what are you going to do about it?” Natasha asks him, but Bucky’s already turning to run after Steve. As he hurries off, he hears Natasha calling after him, “And I’m the Avengers’ _only_ matchmaker!”

Bucky dodges other guests and scans the room, on the verge of panic at the idea that Steve might have left without him, that Steve might be somewhere feeling heartbroken because Bucky was too dumb to see what was right in front of him. He finally spots Steve’s back on the edge of what’s become an impromptu dance floor, dancers spinning and shimmying to the jazz band. 

Bucky grabs Steve by the sleeve and spins him around. Steve’s jaw is set, the line of his lips straight with repressed disappointment. When he realizes Bucky’s there, though, his face relaxes just a fraction.

“I’m over the moon, too,” Bucky says loudly, trying to be heard over the band.

“What?” Steve says.

“I said, I’m over the moon for you, too!” Bucky shouts. Guests on both sides of him turn to stare, but the only face Bucky cares about is Steve’s, a smile slowly unfurling there.

“Yeah?” Steve shouts back.

“Yeah,” Bucky says, pulling Steve close to him. The second kiss is much, much better than the first one.

The hundredth one’s even better than that.


End file.
